Macquarie Island is a dynamic, ever-changing microcosm of weather, wildlife and ocean. The combined forces of the Furious Fifties, the indominable Southern Ocean and legions of transient birds and mammals never let this patch of land sit still for very long. It feels like we reside on a great, hulking beast – fast asleep most of the time, and begrudgingly tolerating our presence for the remainder. It feels as much alive and visceral as the waves that batter its shores.
And that’s just what’s happening in our field of vision between our feet and the horizon. But it is what we can see above the horizon that often awes me the most. Specifically – clouds.
Those multi-faceted expressions of condensation, wind, air pressure and temperature are a constant delight. Much like the Tasmanian mainland, Macquarie Island is a paragon of cloud quality and variety – everything from the comforting cumulus and the lazy stratus, to artistic variations of the horse tail-like cirrus, the UFO-inspired lenticular clouds, and dozens of variations in between. They are as real to the eye as they are ethereal to the touch, silent in their movements but always on the move. They are foreboding and soothing, sharp and soft, intimate and indifferent. The cloud is the oft-overlooked showstopper of our natural world, and in them resides a refuge of reassurance and colour on Macquarie Island, a place that can sometimes be suppressed under the cold and the wet.
To exist and make sense of our world we tend to anthropomorphise much of what we see, and clouds are no different. They affect our mood, we make out shapes and patterns in their form that often reflect our thoughts and feelings, and on one occasion recently I couldn’t help but wonder if a southern-pointing stratocumulus voltus (‘roll’ or ‘log’ cloud, and with thanks to Hana Glencross) was subconsciously speeding me along towards Green Gorge hut whilst on an afternoon hike – a colossal sentinel of the sky urging me onwards.
And when the clouds visit us on the ground, rolling in from the sea in great masses of fog, they shroud us in their embrace, whispering secrets in our ears and telling us tales of unearthly adventures, only to take up their watch in the sky once more. And so, our constantly-evolving world here on Macquarie Island continues.
Hamish Stirling, Station Chippy
Bonus material: We saw a bunch of very fat royal penguins on a hike down the east coast recently. Photos and videos below.
